Historical Notes

1. Mount Holly is a village lying in the western part of the long, narrow township of Northampton, on Rancocas Creek, a tributary of the Delaware. In John Woolman’s day it was almost entirely a settlement of Friends. A very few of the old houses with their quaint stoops or porches are left. That occupied by John Woolman was a small, plain, two-storey structure, with two windows in each storey in front, a four-barred fence enclosing the grounds, with the trees he planted and loved to cultivate. The house was not painted, but whitewashed. The name of the place is derived from the highest hill in the country, rising two hundred feet above the sea, and commanding a view of a rich and level country, of cleared farms and woodlands. Here, no doubt, John Woolman often walked under the shadow of its hollytrees, communing with nature and musing on the great themes of life and duty.

When the excellent Joseph Sturge was in America, some thirty years ago, on his errand of humanity, he visited Mount Holly; and the house of Woolman, then standing, he describes as a very “humble abode.” But one person was then living in the town who had ever seen its venerated owner. This aged man stated that he was at Woolman’s little farm in the season of harvest, when it was customary among farmers to kill a calf or sheep for the labourers. John Woolman, unwilling that the animal should be slowly bled to death, as the custom had been, and to spare it unnecessary suffering, had a smooth block of wood prepared to receive the neck of the creature, when a single blow terminated its existence. Nothing was more remarkable in the character of Woolman than his concern for the well-being and comfort of the brute creation. “What is religion?” asks the old Hindoo writer of the Vishnu Sarman. “Tenderness toward all creatures.” Or, as Woolman expresses it: “Where the love of God is verily perfected, a tenderness towards all creatures made subject to our will is experienced, and a care felt that we do not lessen that sweetness of life in the animal creation, which the Creator intends for them under our government.”

2. The tradition is that he travelled mostly on foot during his journeys among slaveholders. Brissot, in his New Travels in America, published in 1788, says: “John Woolman, one of the most distinguished of men in the cause of humanity, travelled much as a minister of his sect, but always on foot, and without money, in imitation of the apostles, and in order to be in a situation to be more useful to poor people and the blacks. He hated slavery so much that he could not taste food provided by the labour of slaves.” That this writer was on one point misinformed is manifest from the following passage from the Journal:—“When I expected soon to leave a friend’s house where I had entertainment, if I believed that I should not keep clear from the gain of oppression without leaving money, I spoke to one of the heads of the family privately, and desired them to accept of pieces of silver, and give them to such of their negroes as they believed would make the best use of them; and at other times I gave them to the negroes myself, as the way looked clearest to me. Before I came out, I had provided a large number of small pieces for this purpose, and thus offering them to some who appeared to be wealthy people was a trial both to me and them. But the fear of the Lord so covered me at times that my way was made easier than I expected; and few, if any, manifested any resentment at the offer and most of them, after some conversation, accepted of them.”

3. Lay was well acquainted with Dr. Franklin, who sometimes visited him. Among other schemes of reform he entertained the idea of converting all mankind to Christianity. This was to be done by three witnesses, himself, Michael Lovell, and Abel Noble, assisted by Dr. Franklin. But on their first meeting at the Doctor’s house, the three “chosen vessels” got into a violent controversy on points of doctrine, and separated in ill-humour. The philosopher, who had been an amused listener, advised the three sages to give up the project of converting the world until they had learned to tolerate each other.

4. The reader of Evangeline will recall in this connection the words of the poet—

> “In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware’s waters, Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded.

> There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile, Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country.

> There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he departed, Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants.

> Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city, Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a stranger; And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers, For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters.”

5. An incident occurred during the visit of Isaac Jackson which impressed him deeply. On the last evening, just as he was about to turn homeward, he was told that a member of the Society, whom he had not seen, owned a very old slave who was happy and well cared for. It was a case which it was thought might well be left to take care of itself. Isaac Jackson, sitting in silence, did not feel his mind quite satisfied; and as the evening wore away, feeling more and more exercised, he expressed his uneasiness, when a young son of his host eagerly offered to go with him and show him the road to the place. The proposal was gladly accepted. On introducing the object of their visit, the Friend expressed much surprise that any uneasiness should be felt in the case, but at length consented to sign the form of emancipation, saying, at the same time, it would make no difference in their relations, as the old man was perfectly happy. At Isaac Jackson’s request the slave was called in and seated before them. His form was nearly double, his thin hands were propped on his knees, his white head was thrust forward, and his keen, restless, inquiring eye gleamed alternately on the stranger and on his master. At length he was informed of what had been done; that he was no longer a slave, and that his master acknowledged his past services entitled him to a maintenance as long as he lived. The old man listened in almost breathless wonder, his head slowly sinking on his breast. After a short pause, he clasped his hands, then, spreading them high over his hoary head, slowly and reverently exclaimed, “Oh, goody Gody, oh!”—bringing the hands again down on his knees. Then raising them as before, he twice repeated the solemn exclamation, and with streaming eyes and a voice almost too much choked for utterance he continued, “I thought I should die a slave, and now I shall die a free man!”

It is a striking evidence of the divine compensations which are sometimes graciously vouchsafed to those who have been faithful to duty, that on his deathbed this affecting scene was vividly revived in the mind of Isaac Jackson. At that supreme moment, when all other pictures of time were fading out, that old face, full of solemn joy and devout thanksgiving, rose before him, and comforted him as with the blessing of God.

6. “However, I am sure that there is a common spirit that plays within us, and that is the Spirit of God. Whoever feels not the warm gale and gentle ventilation of this Spirit, I dare not say he lives; for truly without this to me there is no heat under the tropic, nor any light though I dwelt in the body of the sun” (Sir Thomas Browne’s Religio Medici).

7. The number of slaves in New Jersey at the commencement of Woolman’s labours for emancipation was undoubtedly large. As late as 1800 there were 12,442. Perth Amboy was a place of deposit for the newly imported Africans, and long barracks were erected for their accommodation. In 1734, when Woolman was a lad of fourteen, an insurrection took place, which had for its object the massacre of the masters, and an alliance with the Indians and French. Some years later a negro convicted of crime was burned alive at Perth Amboy. An immense number of negroes, gathered from all the neighbouring townships, were compelled to be witnesses of the slow torment of the victim (Note by Mr. Whittier).

8. This pamphlet bears the imprint of Benjamin Franklin,1754.

9. He seems to have regarded agriculture as the business most conducive to moral and physical health. He thought, “If the leadings of the Spirit were more attended to, more people would be engaged in the sweet employment of husbandry, where labour is agreeable and healthful.” He does not condemn the honest acquisition of wealth in other business free from oppression; even “merchandising,” he thought, might be carried on innocently and in pure reason. Christ does not forbid the laying up of a needful support for family and friends; the command is, “Lay not up for YOURSELVES treasures on earth.” From his little farm on the Rancocas he looked out with a mingled feeling of wonder and sorrow upon the hurry and unrest of the world; and especially was he pained to see luxury and extravagance overgrowing the early plainness and simplicity of his own religious society. He regarded the merely rich man with unfeigned pity. With nothing of his scorn he had all of Thoreau’s commiseration, for people who went about bowed down with the weight of broad acres and great houses on their backs.—(Note by Mr. Whittier).

10. Christians refused to pay taxes to support heathen temples. See Cave’s Primitive Christianity, part iii. p: 327.

11. Fox’s Acts and Monuments, p: 233.

12. Whatever may be thought of these scruples of John Woolman in regard to inoculation, his objections can scarcely be considered valid against vaccination, which, since his time, has so greatly mitigated the disease. He almost seems to have anticipated some such preventive.

13. There is a story told of his first appearance in England which is well authenticated. The vessel reached London on the morning of the second day of the week, and John Woolman, knowing that the meeting was then in session, lost no time in reaching it. Coming in late and unannounced, his peculiar dress and manner excited attention and apprehension that he was an itinerant enthusiast. He presented his certificate from Friends in America, but the dissatisfaction still remained, and some one remarked that perhaps the stranger Friend might feel that his dedication of himself to this apprehended service was accepted, without further labour, and that he might now feel free to return to his home. John Woolman sat silent for a space, seeking the unerring counsel of divine wisdom. He was profoundly affected by the unfavourable reception he met with, and his tears flowed freely. In the love of Christ and his fellow-men he had, at a painful sacrifice, taken his life in his hands, and left behind the peace and endearments of home. That love still flowed out toward the people of England; must it henceforth be pent up in his own heart? He rose at last, and stated that he could not feel himself released from his prospect of labour in England. Yet he could not travel in the ministry without the unity of Friends; and while that was withheld he could not feel easy to be of any cost to them. He could not go back as had been suggested; but he was acquainted with a mechanical trade, and while the impediment to his services continued, he hoped Friends would be kindly willing to employ him in such business as he was capable of, that he might not be chargeable to any.

A deep silence prevailed over the assembly, many of whom were touched by the wise simplicity of the stranger’s words and manner. After a season of waiting, John Woolman felt that words were given him to utter as a minister of Christ. The spirit of his Master bore witness to them in the hearts of his hearers. When he closed, the Friend who had advised against his further services rose up and humbly confessed his error, and avowed his full unity with the stranger. All doubt was removed; there was a general expression of unity and sympathy, and John Woolman, owned by his brethren, passed on to his work.

There is no portrait of John Woolman; and had photography been known in his day it is not at all probable that the sun-artist would have been permitted to delineate his features. That, while eschewing all superfluity and expensive luxury, he was scrupulously neat in his dress and person may be inferred from his general character, and from the fact that one of his serious objections to dyed clothing was that it served to conceal uncleanness, and was, therefore, detrimental to real purity. It is, however, quite probable that his outer man, on the occasion referred to, was suggestive of a hasty toilet in the crowded steerage (Note by Mr. Whittier).

14. During the four months of his labours in England he visited the Quarterly and subordinate meetings of Friends in seven counties, and found time to write essays upon “Loving our Neighbours,” “A Sailor’s Life,” and “Silent Worship.” His mind seems to have been greatly exercised by a sense of the intimate connection of luxury and oppression; the burden of the labouring poor rested heavily upon him. In his lonely wanderings on foot through the rural districts (for he did not feel free to use the post on account of the hard treatment of the horses), or in his temporary sojourn in crowded manufacturing towns, the eager competitions and earnest pursuit of gain of one class, and the poverty and physical and moral degradation of another, so oppressed him that his health suffered and his strength failed. It is observable that, in his frequent mention throughout his journal of inward trials and afflictions, he nowhere betrays any personal solicitude, any merely selfish anxiety, for his own soul. His singular conscientious scruples, his close self-questionings, are prompted by a tender concern for universal well-being; an earnest desire that no act or omission of his own should add to the evil and misery under which the creation groans. He offered no prayers for special personal favours. He was, to use his own words, mixed with his fellow-creatures in their misery, and could not consider himself a distinct and separate being. He left all that concerns self to the will of his Father in Heaven, trusting to find a place among the “many mansions,” but never asking to see the title-deeds of his inheritance. His last public labour was a testimony in the York Meeting in behalf of the poor and enslaved. His last prayer on his deathbed was a commendation of his “fellow-creatures separated from the divine harmony” to the Omnipotent Power whom he had learned to call his Father (Note by Mr. Whittier).